


Four Times a Charm

by cosmicchelc



Series: Whouffle & Whouffaldi One-Shots [29]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, OC Clara, Prostitution, echo!Clara - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26071750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicchelc/pseuds/cosmicchelc
Summary: Three times the Doctor had met an echo of Clara.Now, it was his fourth time, with a Clara that was in an unfortunate circumstance, something he could fix. Something he was going to fix. Even if it wasn't exactly her.[whouffle if you want it to be]
Relationships: Eleventh Doctor & Clara Oswin Oswald, Eleventh Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Series: Whouffle & Whouffaldi One-Shots [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/844854
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Four Times a Charm

**Author's Note:**

> In a way, imagine Clara Oswald, back at the same point yet again. 
> 
> I credit a lot to this shipping, along with one of my old friends to the reason why I started writing. With a poetry book of my own publishing in my hands, I felt like returning back into the realm for a brief moment. Plus, the drought disappointed me. 11/Clara deserve more. If I finish this in time, it'll coincide with the 6 years since Peter Capaldi started his venture with Doctor Who.
> 
> I apologize if it isn't to the par of my previous stories. I say now that it's not intentional, it has just been awhile.
> 
> Roughly between Nightmare in Silver and Time of the Doctor, though it is a considerable time between, enough for them to have gained a sense of proper understanding between them. You can see it as whouffle if you want.
> 
> I also want to clarify: I am not shaming sex work. It's not the goal. Claire here was stuck in a situation that she was forced upon, something she couldn't have helped because of what was given to her. I apologize if you are offended in advance.

"You're in the wrong place, you are aware of that, yes?"

_Oh, no._

He looked up at the voice slowly, finding his thought process had accidentally brought him in a shady alley, where a woman stood under the lamplight. It was _her_.

"Clara." He whispered, more to himself than to her.

Yes, he intended to come to Victorian London for a bit of a change of pace from the feeling of modernity. It was one of his favorite Earth time periods. He originally had plans to go see Paternoster Gang that he was ever so acquainted with, but everything was derailed at the sound of her voice. Instead, he was getting a strange sense of deja vu at who he was looking at. A woman stood in front of him, hands on her hips and a frown tugging at her features at his stumbling into the alley.

Yet her voice, her face, her...well, _everything_ , certainly changed the situation for him once again. For the fourth time in his time, he found himself face to face with the impossible girl, Clara Oswald (yet if he considered the Dalek Asylum, he supposed it was only three face-to-face meetups). The Clara he had grown to know, modern one with the skirts that were too tight and a smile that brightened the room was back in her time, safe at the Maitlands, far from this period.

Yet why was there another Clara here?

_Clara Oswald._

_Clara Oswin Oswald._

_The impossible girl._

When he gave no answer, her frown deepened and her face became quite cross. Glad to see that was generally still the same in each reincarnation he seemed to meet.

"Wrong name, though it's quite the nice one." She quirked a small smile, though it was gone as quick as it came.

"Sorry. I thought you were someone else." He said, shaking his head. "What are you doing in an alley?"

"Better question, what are you doing here? Are you one of those lads that preys on women? The strange kind? The ones who do it for assault rather than paying for a service?" She stepped closer and jabbed a finger at him, "I know this is a brothel, but the entrance is over there, sir." He glanced at her clothing. It was low cut, protruding her bust line, the skirt was most definitely shorter than normal, and her ankles were even showing. The only bit of coverage she had around herself was a ragged shawl, barely covering her on this winter day. Definitely a prostitute. 

His Clara, a prostitute in this rendition. He felt his cheeks blush deep red when he spent a tad bit longer looking at her cleavage than normal. Instead, he shook his head and forced his eyes to stare back at her very cross ones.

"Ah, no! I'm just...I'm not doing anything. I just got lost." He paused, "This isn't the entrance?" 

"Please spare me the lies, sir." She rolled her eyes, "I'm on break. If you seek my services, the front is over there. Not that I'd expect you to be a part of this type of crowd. But who am I to know?"

"I think you know more than meets the eye." He murmured. _You're a copy of a woman that I've known four different times, in four different ways. I would have walked away by now had it not been your face. The face that held mystery, a mystery you wouldn't be able to answer either._ It wasn't necessarily a lie. She had the same spirit his Clara did and most likely had more than just a pretty face. 

"Is this a new type of attempt to get me in bed even when I have clients? I can guarantee you, sir, that this isn't working. There's a list. You have to follow it." She huffed, smoothing out her skirt.

"That's not my intention. You have a bright mind." He responded, "Gifts most likely wasted in this place."

She took a long look at him from head to toe, similarly to how he did earlier. He suddenly felt exposed, as though she was reading more than he would generally allow people to read.

"My gifts of my bosom and hands that are well equipped to support a man's needs?" She replied cheekily. Oddly enough, she was warming up to him. Maybe it was because when she looked at him very carefully, it wasn't much effort to conclude that he wasn't just some drunk off the street, harassing her. No, no, she saw his gold pocket watch and the way he carried himself. To anyone, he looked like he was of minor dukedom or some other wealthy descent. Like he had mentioned; gifts of a bright mind.

"More than that." His attempt to prove it to her were interrupted by a man, most likely her supervisor. The supervisor jerked his thumb towards the interior of the brothel.

"Oswald, you have a client. And who the bloody hell are you? Inquiry in the front." He turned to the Doctor, who was already pulling out his psychic paper.

"Good day, my fellow sir!" The Doctor flashed the psychic paper to the man, who was confused as it was, "I'm a private detective in search of a recent disappearance in the area. Miss Oswald has been someone I have needed to investigate for awhile, as she has a connection with her. I do apologize for not inquiring in the front, but it was of opportune chance that I saw her here." Her face was puzzled, but the Doctor gave a nonchalant wink at her. She got the message fair enough and smiled sheepishly at her boss. The man frowned, suddenly apprehensive.

"Has it anything to do with the brothel?" He questioned, eyes turning to slits. It didn't take much deduction to prove that he most likely was running a secondary illegal business beneath the Yard's nose. The Doctor shook his head--he could have sought the problem, but he needed to settle things with the echo first.

"No sir, just a query in regards to something entirely not having to do with the fine establishment. It won't take long, but it's safe to request for her full cooperation all day." He smiled and the man just nodded, going back in, grumbling about something the Doctor could only assume was a lost in profit.

"How did you do that? Just told him off. Is that actually a badge for the Scotland Yard?" She tried to take a look but the Doctor closed it and smirked.

"With magic, my dear. Now do tell me, as I just got you out of a sticky situation--" he wrinkled his nose at the double meaning, "--you could start with your name."

"Claire. Claire Oswald." So not quite Clara, but close enough to her name and also shared the same last name. He took note of it, also noticing that she didn't have a middle name. So Oswin was also a peculiarity not for for all. "What are you really after, if not for my services?"

"I'm here to help you."

"Help me?" She raised an eyebrow, "How, pray tell, do you plan on _helping_ me? You practically cost me a paycheck today."

"Let's get out of here, shall we?" He wrinkled his nose at yet another sexual connotation, "I mean as in to get out of the cold to help you out of those clothes that hardly seem to cover you modestly. Wait." He groaned at his inability to truly seem to speak without having a double meaning. She managed to giggle at him and he smiled sheepishly in response.

"You're being quite silly for someone who extruded confidence just moments ago." Claire murmured, crossing her arms now.

"Is there something wrong with being silly?" He stepped forward to her, closing their distance by a small bit. It was close enough that their breathing was much more apparent to the naked eye.

"No, not at all. Though I do find it silly that I don't know your name when you wanted mine." She responded, sidestepping from him. Oh yes, she was definitely an echo of Clara.

"It's the Doctor." His eyes sparkled and Claire waited for an additional surname attached to the honorific. When he said none and just waited for her to say something in response, she narrowed her eyes.

"And you expect me to believe there's nothing else after the Doctor? No Smith, no Watson, no nothing? Now you truly are worthy of being called silly." The Doctor merely smiled at her instead at the response. Typically, they'd say something much more on the nose just like the other Victorian echo said. 

"And you didn't do the thing. You're quite interesting, Claire Oswald. Quite interesting."

"What thing?"

Without another word, the Doctor turned on his heel and practically skipped away. With not much of a choice--it was either to freeze to death or to follow--she chose the only option available to her and went into the night.

* * *

"I do hope you plan on telling me what is on your mind eventually." Claire murmured as they continued to walk, "If you aren't here to magically fix my financial concerns, I seek no reason as to why I need to continue to follow you."

"Tell me about yourself, Claire. Why are you in that situation in the first place?"

"My mother is ghastly sick and my father is working two jobs to help afford her medicine. Most jobs are usually grabbed up and this was the only one I could find that didn't require me skipping out on the morning when it comes to looking after my mum." She responded earnestly, "There's not much out there for a woman at this time if it isn't prostitution or remaining at the side of a wealthy gentleman."

"You can do plenty with your life, Claire. I can guarantee it." The Doctor stopped in front of Paternoster Row, stepping into the gated area and being greeted by Strax, who seemed to be holding grenades.

"Hello Doctor. And boy." Strax did a double take, frowning. "Welcome back."

"Is he calling me a _boy_?" Claire whispered to the Doctor, who sighed in deep annoyance. "Who the hell is that?"

"Yes, he did. He's a Sontaran. Long story short, he gets confused _quite easily_. Not the cream of the crop of six million, if I do say so myself. And hello, Strax. Is Madam Vastra in tonight?" The Doctor clasped his hands together, rubbing them. "I have to ask her something."

"Of course, sir. Jenny is dining with the Madame. Shall I escort you?"

"No, it's quite alright Strax. Do continue...whatever you're doing." Strax nodded as the two continued into the manor. It was easy to tell that Claire had never been in such luxury, as she grasped her shawl tighter around herself. A few turns lead him into the dining room, where Madame Vastra and Jenny both looked up and both their eyes had widened. 

"Doctor...and Clara." Vastra glanced towards the Doctor, who merely smiled sheepishly with enough facial cues to determine to the two dining ladies that they shouldn't mention the past, not while she was in front of them. Claire looked between Jenny and Vastra, before settling her eyes to Vastra who did not have her veil to cover her face.

"Claire, actually. How did you guess my name so close?" Claire inquired, pushing forth instead of asking about the obvious elephant in the room.

"It was a lucky guess, Claire." Vastra turned to Jenny promptly, "Jenny, my dear, it seems that _Claire_ is positively freezing. Do you mind leading her to the guest bedroom and finding her something to wear while I sort things out with the Doctor?"

"Of course, ma'am." Jenny stood and beckoned Claire to follow. The Doctor gave an approving nod and Claire followed the short woman away, fidgeting with her fingers as she did so.

"This is another one of her copies, I take it?" Vastra murmured, "We have already met your future Clara. This one...she's a prostitute. How on Earth did you find her?" The look that she was offering him said enough of an implication. The Doctor shook his head, sighing.

"I wasn't actively searching for her, truly. It was by accident. You know me. Walking through alleys and whatnot." The Doctor responded, wringing his hands together, "I don't know how she is to have existed."

"It's certainly a puzzling factor." Vastra placed her fork down, the Silurian asking many questions with her eyes--ones that had no answer from him.

"She is another variable to a bigger puzzle that I lack plenty of pieces to. She's not...the Clara that was from this time in the past nor the other ones I have met so far. A brand new copy of Clara. I don't...I don't have any answers if you're searching for them from me."

"Then why did you bring her here out of all places?" Vastra questioned, standing from her seat and motioning the Doctor to follow.

"I need you to help her. Her mother is apparently sick and she...resorted to prostitution to assist her financial needs." The Doctor muttered, climbing the stairs with her. "Had she no family, I would have found her a newer life out in the stars, in a safer capacity. Will you?"

"Do tell me you aren't having sentiment because she looks like Clara." Vastra muttered, "I don't mind helping her. My concern is that you're helping her solely for that purpose, not for who she is. Whatever qualities she may hold."

"It's not that." The Doctor responded, his tone betraying his intent, "It's _more_ than that." Vastra scoffed at the Doctor, rolling her eyes.

"Doctor, if you're going to lie, there are better ways to portray it. Particularly in your tone." They stopped in front of one of the guest room doors. "I'm not going to question your motives further. I'm sure there is a place I can put her, perhaps after some phone calls. I cannot promise anything."

"It's better than what I had thought up of." The Doctor grumbled, his hand reaching to knock.

"And what was that?"

"I hadn't thought of it yet." He rapped on the door. Claire called from the inside, indicating she was in there. A turn of the knob and he could marvel at how different she had looked. She had disregarded the plain cream clothing that was considered scandalous at the time, opted for a green dress. Her hair was down, combed in a neat manner that was considered acceptable. It was quite the shift from what he had seen only moments ago.

"Are you sure I can wear this? I...I don't wear such things normally. It's probably worth more than my wages tenfold." Claire said, admiring the clothing on her body through the vanity mirror. Jenny smiled proudly at herself, with Madame Vastra nodding in approval.

"On the contrary dear, it looks wonderful on you. Take it as a gift from us." Vastra responded with a tight smile, "I will leave you to it. Please, rest for tonight and we shall discuss a new opportunity tomorrow." Without a word, the two left the Doctor alone with Claire.

"They will provide for you well. I don't know what job they will offer or for who, but it will be satisfactory and you will never have to work there again." He adjusted his bowtie, "They're wonderful people. I can guarantee that as much."

"She's not of this realm, is she? Her skin is filled with green scales. Jenny is the only human in this home, I take it." Claire asked in amazement. Most would have run off, but she stood firmly in place.

"No, not quite human. You are right that Jenny is one of the human inhabitants here. The right hand woman of Vastra." The Doctor murmured, "It will be a long story to tell. Just know their intentions aren't meant to hurt you. Nobody will ever hurt you--nor will you go into that business ever again."

"Thank you, Doctor."

He stared at her against the light in curiosity. She truly was a split image of Clara, in every way, shape and form. Even this close, from all angles. From the way her almond eyes looked at him inquisitively to the slight quirk of the corner of her lips. In voice, in image, in everything. 

"They called me Clara. You called me Clara. Who is she?" She had every right to ask. The Doctor sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I have an inkling to believe that she is the reason you pulled me from my situation." The intelligence he had spoke of in the alley came to and the Doctor would have laughed, had the tension been less than it was now.

"You...you're very similar to her. By every degree possible, even to the point where you could be mistaken for her." The Doctor omitted all the other information, but still retained a decent amount of honestly, "I have to admit that you are right. Your similarities are too hard to ignore; I had to act accordingly."

"I see. This Clara, I take it she means a lot to you."

"She is a mystery. She is a mystery I tend to figure out."

"She matters enough that even a splitting image is enough for you to bring a woman from the bottom. In a normal situation, I am inclined to believe that you wouldn't follow through. I tend to think she is more than just a mere mystery, Doctor. More like a muse." She pursed her lips, "I still have to thank you."

"Why would I deserve one? I helped you under the pretense that you were her, not because of who you are." The Doctor made such a poor excuse, enough for even Claire to scoff. "Even the way I spoke was in pretense towards her--I'm in no position to be thanked, Claire." Claire sighed, shaking her head.

"I don't care _why_ you did it, Doctor. I care more towards the fact that you _did_ in the first place. I could have been dangerous. I could risk the lives of your friends and yet I'm...here. And I only know _one_ way of repaying you." Her insinuation was enough for him to splutter like a backfiring engine, stepping back to the point where his backside bumped into the nearby closet. Claire let out a soft giggle at his clumsiness. 

"I can't." He shook his head wistfully, though truly weighing the option in the back of his head. Had he been a different man, one with lesser morals than his own now, his tune towards such an advance would be different.

"Why not?" Claire was truly asking now, "It is only a mere bonus that I look like the one who has graced your affections. Had you saved me without this, I would have most likely still asked anyway."

"I'd betray her, Claire." He murmured, "It wouldn't be right."

"You're a man, Doctor. It's not wrong to have urges while also in, what I can easily presume to be love. Some sort of love, perhaps not quite romantic--not quite yet--but enough for it to matter to you in a deeper level. If I can be a replacement for her, even for a moment, I would be honored." She stepped slowly forward to him. With the Doctor practically cornered, it wasn't hard for her to brush her fingers against his lapels, causing the Doctor to stand still. 

"I'm not so much of a man despite what you may believe, Claire."

"I'm inclined to still think that you are. Your cheeks are burning that shade of red like every other man I've met." She whispered, slowly reaching for his neck and bringing his lips to hers. His arms, just like with Clara Oswin, flailed away, though he managed to stick them against the closet instead.

In equal comparison, he could easily say that both Clara Oswin and Claire were of equal level when it came to being kissed. In fervor, she demanded his attention without force. He couldn't deny that he was actually kissing her back though. Maybe it was the way she felt, in such a reminiscing manner Clara Oswin. Maybe it was the way she was just her, an imitation that tasted just well enough. Maybe it was because it showed him what he was missing--the Clara with short skirts and a bossy attitude. 

He lightly pushed her off before the fantasy got out of hand.

"I can't Claire. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She straightened herself, using her fingers to brush at her hair absentmindedly. "I tried. It isn't your fault. If anything, you have stronger morals than most men that I've met. Visit me, will you? I would want you to see if your faith in me is of value in time."

"Of course."

* * *

He moved forward in time for roughly a year. 

It wasn't hard to find her either. Vastra had found her a job nearby, as a--ironically--governess for a nearby family. He waited until it was her time to have left and he stood by the gate of the household, tossing his sonic up and down. When she exited the home, he made his place known.

"I see you've acclimated yourself quite well. Who knew you were perfect for the governess role?" The Doctor said cheekily and Claire jumped, surprised at the voice.

"Doctor. I see you...haven't changed since I last saw you." Clara was certainly different than what she was in the past. "Quite literally too. Do I even dare ask how?"

"Magic, Claire. I saw you exactly two minutes ago, last year to this day. How have you been?" He asked, pocketing the sonic and stepping forward into the light. 

"It's been wonderful. Vastra found me a job with this family after you departed. They don't ask for my past, just my company for the children. Even the master of the house has taken a shine to me." She smiled in a way that completed her features, as though it was a component that was missing the last time. He felt a odd rush of deja vu, with what she was describing similar to Clara Oswin's situation.

"And your parents?" He queried, though it was much more like small talk than anything.

"My salary is enough to keep them in comfort, with my mother regaining more and more of her strength everyday with the medication." Claire grinned, the smile on her face enough for the Doctor to determine that she certainly brought them from several bottoms. "I still cannot thank you enough for everything."

"Like I mentioned, it's fine, Claire. Seeing you happy is well enough of a thanks. Proves to me that the universe still has some kindness left in it." The silence enveloped them, save for some late night carriages moving past them and rare pedestrians around. 

"Go back to her." Claire finally said, smoothing out her dress and bringing her bag closer to her side.

"Hm?" He was rocking on his heels during the quiet, though the words she uttered caused him to almost fall. Regaining his balance, he looked at her in a confused way.

"I can already tell you miss her, Doctor. Even for this short time you claim to have seen me last." Claire said, "My company certainly cannot compare to hers, I'm sure. Go to her."

"I-"

"I hope you do recall that I worked with men before, Doctor. Save for the new clothing and brand new attitude, I still know the telltale features of a man who misses someone. It's quite obvious, regardless of what you may be." She crossed her arms, reading him like a book. And here he thought he was the hardest man to do such a thing to.

"What gave it away?"

"The far away look in your eyes. You're in the moment, but also detached, thinking of something or someone." He wasn't wrong when it came to her astuteness. At least it was being put to good use now. 

"Very perceptive of you." Claire smirked, shooing him away as she boarded the carriage waiting for him. He was ready to walk away himself, back to the TARDIS when she called for him, "Doctor? One more thing?"

"Yes?" He looked up to her, hand still holding the door open. 

"Do cherish her. She's more important than you let on, mystery or not. Waiting...can be impervious to how things turn out." He nodded in return, leaving her to go home to rest.

* * *

"Doctor. Hello? Doctor!" Clara Oswald, 21st century human looked to him, already irritated. Her skirt clung to her waist, the leather jacket fitting her in every perfect way. He glanced down to her in surprise, somehow forgetting that she was there for just a moment. "I do hope you were listening to me."

But she was here. Truly here. Regardless of what mystery she was, regardless of how the story was going to end, she was here in the present with him. 

"Yes, yes, of course I was! Space Vegas, yes yes." He shooed her away in hand motions, flipping levers and adjusting switches. She stepped back, hands on the handrail as she watched him work. He set the course to what he hoped to be Space Vegas--not that he wasn't confident that it was going to be, it was just his track record fell flat when he tried going last time.

"Okay, so you were listening to all my concerns that you'll screw up again?" Clara asked carefully, "I don't quite fancy having to be soaked."

"Clara, I have ears." He stated in a matter-of-fact way, in which Clara just scoffed.

"Incredibly big ones that are still, after everything, hard of hearing sometimes." She sniped, rolling her eyes. "You won't mess up this time, will you?"

"Oh Clara. Where's the fun in all of that?" With a wink, he pulled the lever and their adventure began, the Doctor and Clara, once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man. This was a doozy. I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
